“A man,” said Giulika, “bought a donkey in the bazaar and led it away. Two thieves followed him. His back being turned, one slipped the halter from the donkey and put it over his own head. The other went off with the donkey. When he had had time to escape, his mate began to pull and groan. The purchaser looked back, and lo! there was no donkey, but instead, a man. ‘Where is my donkey?’ he asked, in great amazement. ‘Woe is me!’ cried the thief; ‘I am that luckless being. A magician turned me into a donkey for fifteen years; the time has just come to an end. I am a man again, and have nothing, and know not where to go.’ And the kind man released him, and gave him some money.”
Roars of laughter greeted the end of the story. Then Giorgio, the young man who had been wounded, and had hitherto kept silence, announced that he had had a very funny thought. It tickled him so much that for a time he could not tell it; and even while he told it, laughter interrupted him after every sentence.
“Suppose a cow fell from the cliff opposite,” he said. “It would be broken all to pieces. Every man would run to pick up a bit for supper. Then suppose, just as they got there, the bits all joined into a cow again and ran away!”
The thought of their disappointment amused the company so much that they shouted again and again. More stories followed, and all the time Maurice was pondering on his plight, wondering what the next day would bring forth. Slavianski had not given up his purpose; the encampment outside was proof of that. The darkness had been to his disadvantage in the first attack; would he renew his onslaught on the morrow? Was the kula strong enough to withstand him? Was it right to imperil the lives and goods of these kindly, simple Albanians? Presently, from sheer exhaustion, both George and Maurice fell into an uneasy sleep, from which they were roused, as the dawn was stealing into the room, by a shout from Doda, who had remained on the roof. The enemy were advancing to the attack. There was a score of Albanians, and four Europeans, and the tall, bearded leader of the Europeans was urging on men who bore a heavy tree-trunk slung on ropes.
The old patriarch, instantly ordered the ladder leading to the ground floor to be drawn up. He knew that the door would not withstand a battering-ram. At the same time the rest of the men went to the windows and the roof and fired at the assailants, some of the boys hurling stones down among them. There were scattered shots also from the other houses in the village. The enemy replied briskly with a fusillade. Several of them were hit, but the others rushed forward to the door, broke it in with one stroke of the ram, and poured into the house, followed by the Austrians.
But here they were baffled by the removal of the ladder. They shouted to the old man, commanding him to deliver up his guests. They fired through the trapdoor; there was no one on the second storey, but the Mauser bullets pierced the logs that formed the floor of the upper room, and sent the inmates for safety to the roof. Thence they fired, but sparingly, for they had not many cartridges; their stock of missiles also was becoming exhausted: but the old man declared that they were safe—there was no ladder in the village long enough to replace that which had been withdrawn.
What was to be the end of it? The answer was soon made clear. A smell of burning arose from the bottom of the house. The invaders had set fire to some of the stores. Maurice could not but regard this as merely a warning; he could scarcely believe that Slavianski, however unscrupulous, deliberately intended to burn down the house and all that it contained. Giulika, looking grave at the destruction of his property, took the same view, and declared that such threats were vain; every Albanian must know that his honour was committed to the preservation of his guests, and he could never give them up. Such loyalty in a half-savage mountaineer stirred Maurice to admiration.
“The car!” cried George suddenly. “If a spark catches the petrol the whole place will be blown up.”
Without an instant’s hesitation Maurice sprang down into the room, down the ladder to the next floor, and, leaning over the opening, called aloud that he surrendered.
“Count Slavianski,” he cried, “spare the household.”